


And Gold Turns Gray

by enigmaticblue



Series: Dean Winchester, Agent of SHIELD [8]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bruce Banner Needs a Hug, Community: hc_bingo, Community: trope_bingo, Dean Winchester Needs a Hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Estrangement, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-18 06:17:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15479463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: In the end, everything falls apart.





	And Gold Turns Gray

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the First Aid Kit song, “Stay Gold.” Fills my hc_bingo prompt “estrangement” and my trope_bingo prompt “unhappy ending”

“ _What if our hard work ends in despair?/What if the road won't take me there?/Oh, I wish, for once, we could stay gold/What if to love and be loved's not enough?/What if I fall and can't bear to get up?/Oh, I wish, for once, we could stay gold/We could stay gold/We're on our way through rugged land/Top of that mountain we wanted to stand/With hearts of gold/With hearts of gold/But there is only forward, no other way/Tomorrow was your hope at the end of the day/And gold turns gray/And gold turns gray._ ” ~First Aid Kit, “Stay Gold”

 

Dean steps out of the shower and is grateful the steam has fogged over the mirror, obscuring his reflection. He’s still having a hard time looking at himself, and he doesn’t particularly want to go to this shindig. If he could stand to see his haunted expression, Dean might have tried giving himself a pep talk, but that’s out.

 

Besides, if he talks to himself, Jarvis might respond, which has happened a couple of times before.

 

Still, it’s just the team, and they’re all friends, so a birthday dinner isn’t _that_ out of the ordinary.

 

Dean thinks about the gift Sam sent, and he sees the picture frame next to his bed, an early gift from Bruce. The frame was big enough for two photos, one with him and his family before his mom died, and another with him, Sam, and Bobby taken in the salvage yard.

 

He has another picture of him with his dad, but he hasn’t been able to display it. Dean likes to believe that his mom would still love him after everything, but he can’t quite believe that his dad would.

 

Maybe John Winchester believed he was looking out for his boys’ best interests, but Dean doesn’t think his dad would hesitate to put a bullet in Dean’s head if he thought it was necessary.

 

In his darkest moments, Dean wonders if it is.

 

He shakes himself and grabs a nicer pair of jeans and a dress shirt, and tries to at least force a more relaxed expression on his face, if not a smile.

 

Dean heads up to the Penthouse. He’s in the elevator alone, and he’s early. He regrets that a moment later when the doors open, and he hears the tense silence immediately. Bruce and Tony are standing in the center of the room, and Dean has no idea what the content of their conversation was, but they’re nose-to-nose.

 

Dean immediately hits the close-door button.

 

“Come on in, Dean,” Tony says. “This discussion is over.”

 

The door stays open, probably because of Jarvis’ intervention, and Dean grimaces. “You know the kids never like it when Mom and Dad fight.”

 

The joke falls a little flat, but Dean isn’t at his best right now.

 

“Does that make Bruce the team mom?” Tony asks, and there’s a needling tone that Dean has never heard directed at Bruce.

 

Dean feels a sharp anger on Bruce’s behalf. “Since the team mom keeps the team fed, maybe we’re both team moms. And since my mom was pretty damn awesome, and my dad wasn’t, I’m not seeing how that’s an insult.”

 

Tony immediately holds his hands up in surrender. “You’re right. That was a shitty comment. Can I get you something to drink?”

 

“Yeah, I’d take a beer,” Dean replies, accepting the subject change. He glances at Bruce to check on him, and Bruce shrugs.

 

Dean resolves to talk to Bruce later about it, if only so he knows what to expect from the team dynamics.

 

And to make sure that Bruce is okay. Dean figures that one of them has to be.

 

He’s grateful that Natasha shows up by the time Tony has popped the top of his beer and handed him the bottle. She reads the room effortlessly and tucks into Dean’s side, providing something of a barrier.

 

A much desired barrier, if he’s being honest.

 

Natasha squeezes his arm. “Happy birthday.”

 

“Yeah, thanks,” Dean replies, then adds in a low voice, “Trouble’s brewing between Bruce and Tony, and I don’t know what to do with that.”

 

“Ignore it for now,” Natasha advises, matching Dean’s tone. “If Bruce doesn’t tell you, I’ll get it out of Tony.”

 

Dean laughs, because he knows she will, possibly without him even knowing she’s done so. Bruce will probably confide in him, though. Their relationship has changed just as Dean has, and they both recognize a kindred spirit in each other, more than they had before.

 

The others arrive soon after that. Steve arrives next with Sam Wilson in tow, and Dean greets them both. “Thanks for coming, Wilson.”

 

“No problem, man,” Wilson replies. “Thanks for having me. I’m looking forward to our next training session upstate.”

 

Dean feels his smile freeze. “Yeah, me too. It should be great.”

 

Training is fine, he reminds himself. Training is a controlled environment. He’s fine in training.

 

Wilson is the kind of guy who can read nuances, though, and he gives Dean a sympathetic look. “Hey, we’ve all been there.”

 

Dean doubts it, but he appreciates the support, and he says so. “Good to see you,” he adds as Natasha detaches, probably to get information out of Bruce or Tony.

 

Dean tries to ignore the envelopes and packages that people are bringing in, because he really doesn’t want gifts, but he also hadn’t been involved in the planning. He can’t really complain about people giving him presents, even if he doesn’t want or need anything.

 

Clint shows up next, and he gives Dean a quick one-armed hug. “Happy birthday. Congrats on surviving another year.”

 

Since that’s about how Dean feels, he grins. “Thanks.”

 

He’s a little surprised when Colonel Rhodes turns up with a smile and handshake. “Good to see you’re in one piece, Agent Winchester. Happy birthday.”

 

Rhodes embodies the same attitude as the best officers Dean served under, either in the Rangers or under joint commands with other branches. Still, he’s an officer, and Dean feels his spine straighten just a touch.

 

“Thank you, sir,” he replies.

 

“Just Jim,” he says. “Or Rhodes, if you prefer.”

 

Dean smirks. “Yes, sir.”

 

Rhodes snorts. “Yeah, I’ve got your number. I’ve worked with Rangers in the past.”

 

Dean shrugs and smirks, but lets that comment pass. “Good to see you,” he says instead.

 

He doesn’t expect anybody else, but then Daisy enters and makes a beeline for him. He’s surprised when she hugs him, but he hugs her back when she clings tightly. “I’m so sorry,” she whispers.

 

Dean takes a deep breath. “Thanks.”

 

She pulls back and looks searchingly into his eyes. “You’re okay?”

 

“No.”

 

“But you will be?”

 

“Jury’s out on that,” Dean admits.

 

“You will be,” she insists. “I saw your brother, by the way.”

 

Dean snorts. “Yeah?”

 

“He’s doing good work,” she says. “You should be proud of him. He wants you to be proud of him.”

 

“I am,” Dean replies. “I just can’t see him yet.”

 

“Yeah, I get that,” Daisy replies. “If you need me to be the go-between, I will.”

 

“I might take you up on that,” Dean replies. “I’ll let you know.”

 

She gives him another impulsive hug. “Hang in there.”

 

Dean appreciates her support, and if anybody understands where he’s coming from, other than Bruce, it’s Daisy. “Thanks for coming.”

 

“We have to stick together,” Daisy replies.

 

That’s the last of the guests, and food is served shortly after, mostly bar food that’s easy to eat with their fingers. Dean loads up his plate with sliders, poppers, and potato skins. If he can forget that the party is for his birthday, it could be just another team dinner.

 

For a while, Dean talks with his teammates, dishes on past missions with Rhodes and Wilson, discusses the recent issues with the neighbors with Clint, catches up with Daisy and gets the low-down on Hydra and Gideon Malick.

 

Dean can forget why they’re gathered, and his recent incident, and the current political climate, and just enjoy being with his friends.

 

And then Tony stands up and gets everybody’s attention. “We’re here to celebrate Dean’s birthday, but he said he didn’t want a big deal, so this is me not making a big deal. Dean, open your presents on your own time, but I need to see you privately.”

 

There’s a chorus of happy birthdays, but no one does anything more than that, and Tony grabs his arm. “Downstairs.”

 

“Is this a thing?” Dean asks.

 

“This is my gift,” Tony replies. “So, don’t raise a fuss.”

 

Natasha slides into the elevator with them and says, “You’re not going to upset him, are you?”

 

“That’s not the plan,” Tony replies. “But I make no promises.”

 

When he sees the car in the center of the garage below the Tower, Dean understands what Tony means.

 

It’s not his father’s Impala, but Dean isn’t sure he could bring himself to drive that car these days. What it is, is a 1968 Camaro, with black paint and black and red interior in the same colors of his Avengers uniform. The nods to his current occupation are subtle but apparent to a trained eye, and Dean runs a reverent hand over the hood. “She’s beautiful.”

 

“She’s yours,” Tony replies. “Now you’ll have wheels to get to and from the compound upstate. Take it out for a spin if you want.”

 

Dean hesitates. “I don’t want to be rude.”

 

“It would be rude if you didn’t,” Tony counters, and Dean knows that he’s throwing money at a problem, but Dean doesn’t care when he slides behind the wheel.

 

Everything is original, and then Tony leans against the door, the open driver’s window letting him stick his head in. “I tried to keep it authentic, but there’s an AI in the car, just FYI. You can activate it by asking for Friday.”

 

Dean raises an eyebrow. “And what does the engine run on?”

 

“Arc reactor tech, of a sort,” Tony replies. “It’s clean energy, and you’ll never need to fill up the tank.”

 

Dean can’t blame him, because it’s a very Tony thing to do, so instead he says, “Thanks. I think I will take it out for a quick spin.”

 

Natasha climbs into the passenger seat and says, “This is a beautiful car.”

 

“Thanks,” Tony replies, sounding sincere. “Have fun.”

 

The engine is responsive, emitting a quiet purr as he pulls out of the garage. Leaving the city is tempting. He could skip out on the rest of the party and drive upstate. He has enough personal belongings at the compound to get by for a couple of weeks.

 

But that seems rude, so he drives around Manhattan, appreciating Natasha’s quiet presence. “I’m not going on missions for a while,” he announces suddenly, breaking the silence.

 

“I know that,” she replies. “I think we all do.”

 

“Fallout?”

 

Natasha is quiet for a long few seconds. “Steve will want the firepower for certain missions because it will cut back on risk for the rest of us.”

 

Dean grimaces. “Okay. Who?”

 

“There’s been talk about including the Maximoffs,” Natasha admits.

 

Dean’s stomach clenches. “Seriously? Who thought that was a good idea?”

 

“They’re very repentant,” she replies dryly.

 

“And they think it’s a good idea to put Wanda Maximoff in the same room as me or Bruce?” Dean asks incredulously. “Last I knew, she was trying to set me off. I don’t need more triggers in my life.”

 

Natasha shrugs. “They’ll be limited to the compound, and I think I can convince Steve to leave you out of any training session they’re involved with for now considering what happened the last time you crossed paths.”

 

Dean grips the steering wheel hard. “Right, well, cater to my needs, I guess.”

 

“You have justifiable concerns,” she counters. “And they’re dangerous, and could easily cause you or Bruce to lose control if they so chose.”

 

“So, you don’t trust them,” Dean says.

 

“I trust you,” Natasha says simply. “I trust Clint. I trust Steve to be Steve, and Tony to be Tony, and Bruce to be Bruce.”

 

Dean feels a rush of pleasure. Those three words are pretty much the best gift he could have asked for. “And Thor? I hear he’s very godlike.”

 

“I don’t understand his motives, therefore I can’t trust him,” Natasha replies. “And a pretty face makes for attractive scenery, but I know better than to count on that for anything.”

 

Dean laughs. “Is that why it took you so long to give me the time of day? My pretty face?”

 

“No, your unfortunate tendency towards martyrdom,” she replies. “I dislike funerals on principle.”

 

Dean sobers. “We might be headed there, Nat.”

 

“I expect you to run first,” Natasha says bluntly. “So, keep your go-bag packed. I assume you don’t need pointers.”

 

“I have bank accounts, caches, and a few bolt holes,” Dean confirms. “I’m going to talk to Bruce about it, too.”

 

Natasha smiles. “It’s nice that you have a BFF.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“And that Bruce has someone other than Tony,” Natasha adds. “He might have the patience of a saint, but I’m still surprised he hasn’t lost it on Tony yet.”

 

Dean hitches a shoulder. “Love is blind, and sometimes dumb. And I get the sense that there are a lot of issues they never really discussed.”

 

“You would know,” Natasha comments. “You’ve probably spent more time with them than anybody else.”

 

Dean sighs. “We’re coming up to the Rubicon, Nat.”

 

“We are,” she agrees. “But I will protect you as best I can, Dean.”

 

Dean doesn’t offer to return the favor, because she doesn’t need his protection, but he’ll take hers.

 

The rest of the evening is pleasant. He parks his new car back at the Tower, eats cake and ice cream, thanks everybody for coming, and returns to his apartment with Natasha for a little birthday nookie.

 

She blows him, then rides him until she comes twice and Dean is begging for another orgasm before she finishes him off for the second time. Before he falls asleep, she says, “Beg off of training for the next week. Stay here with Bruce.”

 

“Why?” he asks, rousing slightly.

 

“Because Steve wants to give the Maximoffs a trial run, and you don’t need to see them or fight with Steve about it,” she says. “I think Daisy is spending the night. Hang out with her and Bruce, go see Coulson and find out what mad quest he’s on now, just take a break. You need that.”

 

“Steve would tell me to get back on the horse,” Dean counters.

 

Natasha snorts. “No, he wouldn’t. He’d tell you to be safe, and that the Avengers can’t afford another slip up right now.”

 

Dean gives her a look, now fully free of the post-orgasmic haze. “Steve doesn’t see it that way.”

 

“Then it’s a good time to let me work on him,” Natasha replies. “Let me handle this for you.”

 

Dean lets out a breath. “Yeah. I—okay, yeah.”

 

She presses her lips to his. “I’ll probably be gone by the time you get up. Happy birthday, by the way.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

Dean lays awake a long time after that, though, thinking about the fissures in the team, about the Romanoff twins, about his own role as an Avenger.

 

When he finally does fall asleep, he doesn’t have any more answers than he started with.

 

~~~~~

 

The next morning, he finds a rather bemused Daisy in the kitchen with Bruce, with no one else in sight.

 

“I think they headed upstate,” Bruce offers when he spots Dean.

 

Dean shrugs. “Natasha said they probably would. It’s fine. How did you sleep, Daisy?”

 

“Great,” she says. “Great party last night, by the way.”

 

“Glad you liked it,” Dean says. “Sorry I was a shitty host and disappeared.”

 

“Pretty sure if Tony Stark gave me a car, I’d disappear, too,” she replies with a knowing grin. “But I do have to be getting back.”

 

“You need any assistance?” Dean asks.

 

She hesitates. “You know I would normally say yes, but it’s Hydra, and they’re assholes, and—”

 

“My control has been proven to not be the best,” Dean supplies.

 

Daisy shrugs. “We all have our triggers, Dean. I know I could level an entire city given the right motivation. Just—maybe now is the time to lie low and lick your wounds, get your feet under you again. It’s been a lot.”

 

“Yeah, that it has been,” Dean admits. “Be careful, and if you need me—”

 

“I’ll call you,” Daisy promises. “Hang in there, Dean.”

 

“You too,” he replies.

 

When she’s gone, Dean is left with Bruce, and he can’t help but notice that no one has talked to Dean about going upstate. Wilson mentioned training with him, but that’s it.

 

“So, you want to tell me what’s going on?” Dean asks. “Because other than Wilson’s comment, I had no idea everybody was heading to the compound.”

 

Bruce grimaces. “Yeah…”

 

Dean pours another cup of coffee. “Start from the beginning.”

 

Bruce runs a hand through his hair. “We talked, and we all agreed that it would be better if you laid low.”

 

“I don’t disagree,” Dean says evenly. “I would have liked to have been consulted, though.”

 

“Natasha talked to you,” Bruce counters.

 

She had talked to him, but Dean thought it was coming from her, not that everybody had gotten together behind his back and agreed it would be for the best for him to stay away.

 

He understands not going on missions, and he’s not sorry to skip training with the Maximoffs there, but this feels a little more like he’s been booted off the team without a vote.

 

“I see,” Dean says. “I guess it’s for the best.”

 

Bruce shrugs. “And Steve thinks they have some pretty intense battles coming up and wants the extra firepower. If it’s not you, it’s going to be someone else, and the Maximoff twins are available.”

 

“That’s a fucking terrible idea, for the record,” Dean mutters.

 

“You’ll notice that I’m not there,” Bruce points out. “Nor do I plan on being there while Wanda Maximoff is around. Her powers triggered you, and I don’t want to risk it.”

 

Dean sighs. “Just so we both know it’s a bad idea; at least I know someone else agrees with me and I’m not off my rocker.”

 

Bruce shrugs. “It’s not the only thing we agree on.”

 

“So, the fight?” Dean prompts. “Between you and Tony?”

 

“I pointed out that his Iron Legion had a potential weakness and could be hijacked,” Bruce replies. “He didn’t take it well.”

 

Dean snorts. “Yeah, I can’t imagine he would have. Tony hates to hear that there might be anything wrong with his tech.”

 

“He does, although I’m still right,” Bruce comments. “His signal _could_ be hijacked by someone with the right equipment. He just thinks that no one will have the capabilities.”

 

“Sounds like Tony,” Dean replies. “So, no one wants me around in case I blow up, and you’re worried that Tony is going to fuck shit up. Where does that leave us?”

 

“Stuck here with each other?” Bruce suggests. “I think you’ll quickly sort out who’s willing to treat you the same way they always have, and those who insist on kid gloves.”

 

Dean takes a drink of coffee. “You mean the way that they got you and Natasha to break the news to me?”

 

“Yeah, pretty much,” Bruce replies with an apologetic look. “If you need something to do—”

 

“I’m still working through the SHIELD files,” Dean says. “I’ve made some progress, but I’ve been distracted lately.”

 

“Come find me around lunch time,” Bruce invites. “We’ll grab some food. There’s a Lebanese place up the block I want to try.”

 

Dean nods. “Yeah, sounds good. Thanks, Bruce.”

 

He gets a text from Natasha saying, “The fast one is annoying, and the weird one freaks everybody out, even though Steve will tell you otherwise.”

 

“Tell Steve that he can talk to me himself next time,” Dean texts back.

 

“He didn’t want to upset you.”

 

“Mission not accomplished,” Dean shoots back.

 

“Sorry.”

 

“Not your fault,” Dean replies, knowing that if he’s going to be snappish with anybody, it should be Cap.

 

The next text is a picture of Cap looking sweaty and exasperated, apparently mid-lecture with the Maximoff twins wearing sullen expressions.

 

Dean snorts and is grateful that he’s not the one who has to deal with them.

 

He’s making headway with the SHIELD files when he stumbles across a list of names. That’s all it is, though; there’s no additional information.

 

Two names on the list catch his attention, though: Howard and Maria Stark. As far as Dean knows, they died in a car accident, so he has no idea what their names would be doing on a list.

 

He has a really bad feeling about it, though.

 

Dean googles one of the other names and finds a short article about an apparent suicide of a marine biologist in the mid-80’s who was investigating the use of algae to clean polluted water. “Jarvis, could you find everything there is to find on a Dr. Moira Finlay?”

 

“Of course, Agent Winchester,” Jarvis replies. “Would you like me to do the same for the other names on the list?”

 

“All but the Starks,” Dean replies. “I want to save them for later.”

 

“I will provide you with all the information I can find,” Jarvis promises.

 

Dean has a hunch, and he decides to take a slightly different tack. He hasn’t been able to find anything on how to trigger the Winter Soldier, but maybe he should start by identifying likely victims. From there, he might be able to find out who held the leash at any given time.

 

It doesn’t take long for Jarvis to pull the information, and even though all the deaths were deemed either accidental or natural, the victims share certain traits in common. All of them were leaders or prospective leaders on the verge of doing something that might change the world for the better in a significant way. All were killed before they could complete their work. The articles all have similar language about lives cut short, work unfinished, the world being a poorer place, although the language changes depending on whether it was ruled a suicide or an accident.

 

“Isolate the suicides,” Dean says. “See if there are any autopsies.”

 

He’s not surprised that no one has spotted the pattern before. The causes of death are different, and the locations span the world as well as decades. If Dean hadn’t found that list, he wouldn’t have seen a connection.

 

“Jarvis, pull up the target list from the helicarriers,” Dean says.

 

He hasn’t looked into it much, but that list is strikingly similar: people who are at the top of their game, who might change the world for the better. Bruce and Tony’s names appear, as well as that of a neurosurgeon named Stephen Strange, and Maria Hill. There are military officers, and a few random people Jarvis doesn’t have much information on, including a teenager. Dean can only assume that the algorithm Hydra used saw a future threat Dean doesn’t understand right now.

 

“Dean?” Bruce pokes his head into his workspace. “And here I thought you’d be the one digging me out of my lab. Are you hungry?”

 

“Yeah, I could eat,” Dean replies, abandoning his text message to Natasha. He needs to know if there’s a reason he should leave this alone. “Sorry, I ran across a line of research.”

 

Bruce frowns. “Anything I should be worried about?”

 

“What do you know about Tony’s parents’ deaths?” Dean asks.

 

Bruce shakes his head. “Nothing much other than they died in a car accident. Tony doesn’t talk about them much.”

 

Dean nods. “Okay.”

 

“That’s it?”

 

“I have a list of names with nothing else,” Dean admits. “I think they might be connected, but I’m going to need a lot more information before I do anything.”

 

Bruce doesn’t press for additional information. “Got it.”

 

“What do you think the fallout is going to be if Hydra is behind the deaths?” Dean asks. He doesn’t add any additional speculation.

 

“That would depend on who was ultimately responsible,” Bruce replies. “But I can’t imagine it would go over well. How would you respond?”

 

“If I found the person involved in my parents’ deaths, I’d kill them,” Dean says bluntly. “I probably wouldn’t even think about it.”

 

“Let me know what you find out,” Bruce says. “I might be able to help calm things down if necessary.”

 

Dean nods. “I’ll let you know.”

 

He sends a text message to Natasha after he gets back from lunch. “Found a list of names, and I have reason to believe they were Hydra targets. The Starks were on that list. Tell me whether I should keep digging.”

 

“We’re putting together a mission,” Natasha replies, rather than responding to his question. “Be careful.”

 

Dean grimaces. “You too.”

 

He stares at the names, including that of the Starks. Howard Stark, one of the founders of SHIELD, and Maria Stark, who doesn’t appear to have any involvement at all beyond being married to Howard.

 

“Jarvis, pull everything you have on operations for the six weeks prior to the Starks’ deaths,” Dean says. “Let’s see if we can figure out what Mr. Stark might have been doing.”

 

“Of course,” Jarvis replies. “I can also pull all files with dates on or around the dates of their deaths.”

 

“One week prior, and one week after,” Dean confirms.

 

Jarvis pauses. “It will take some time, Agent Winchester. Those files are some of the ones most heavily encrypted, presumably by SHIELD and Hydra.”

 

“Then I think those are the files we most need to review,” Dean replies. “What do you know about that call Nat said they got?”

 

“There was a sighting of a known terrorist group near Tbilisi,” Jarvis replies. “I believe they intend to leave the day after tomorrow.”

 

“In Georgia?” Dean asks. “Any Inhuman activity?”

 

“Potentially,” Jarvis replies. “That part is unclear. Mr. Stark has deployed the Iron Legion to help keep the peace.”

 

Dean frowns. Georgia is fairly stable, although the government is still claiming a couple of territories currently occupied by Russia. The country hasn’t been a sovereign state very long, which means they could be touchy about having an American group descend without an invitation. And if the Iron Legion just shows up out of the blue, that might really piss some people off.

 

“Do you know if they’ve asked permission to be there?”

 

“If they have, they have not gone through me,” Jarvis replies.

 

Dean grimaces. “I doubt that’s going to go over well.”

 

He pushes back from the workstation and stands to stretch. “Shit,” Dean mutters. He feels as though he’s standing on the edge of a precipice. Between that list of names and the knowledge that the team is going on a mission without him, he’s worried.

 

“Run the reports, will you, Jarvis?” Dean says. “I’m going to work out if Bruce asks where I am.”

 

He hits the shooting range first, then moves to the training room. It’s not as high-tech as the one at the upstate compound, but it does the job. Dean runs through a series of pre-programmed scenarios methodically until he’s out of breath and sweat-soaked.

 

Dean sits down on the floor, exhausted, and runs a hand through sweaty hair. He tips his head back and tries to catch his breath.

 

He’s not surprised when Bruce slips into the room with a bottle of water. “That was a pretty hard run.”

 

“Yeah, well, I needed to work out some aggression,” Dean replies.

 

“You want to talk about it?”

 

“Not yet,” Dean says, glancing over at him. “Do you?”

 

Bruce’s smile is crooked. “Not yet.”

 

Dean drinks his water. “You know, I think the last thing I want to do tonight is work.”

 

“Movie night?” Bruce suggests. “Because I could use the excuse to turn my phone off for a couple of hours.”

 

“Sounds great.”

 

Dean wants to get out of his own head for a while, and going to the movies sounds like the perfect distraction.

 

~~~~~

 

Jarvis lets him know when the rest of the team leaves for the mission, and he’s relieved to hear that the Maximoffs haven’t been invited along. He thinks they’re loose cannons, and sending them overseas to a warzone is a terrible idea.

 

Dean is still tracking down information on the Starks, particularly on Howard’s activities immediately prior to his death. So far, he’s found references to a package he hadn’t delivered, but he’s still looking for information on what the package contained.

 

“I have unencrypted the files you identified as being potentially pertinent,” Jarvis announces.

 

“All right, let’s see them,” Dean replies.

 

Dean begins to go through the files one by one. The third one he opens is a memo from Peggy Carter to Howard Stark:

 

_The security of the serum cannot be overstated. You are the only one I trust to transport it to the secured location._

 

“The serum?” Dean wonders out loud. “Is this related to the super soldier serum?”

 

“Unknown,” Jarvis replies. “But I can continue to search the records.”

 

“Thanks.” Dean opens the next few files, but there’s nothing of much interest. Wherever they were intending to store the serum, it hadn’t been put in writing. Dean wonders what, if anything, Peggy Carter and Howard Stark suspected.

 

He’s not expecting for the video file to be anything interesting or even pertinent—and then he realizes what he’s seeing.

 

The remains of a car wreck, a man who shoots the driver and the passenger, and then looks up at the camera. As the reality comes crashing down, Dean knows what he’s seeing is explosive.

 

It’s more than explosive; Dean is well aware that what he has could fracture the team beyond repair.

 

Dean closes the window. “Jarvis, put a lock on that file. No one’s eyes but mine and yours.”

 

“I have no eyes, but your point is well made, Agent Winchester.”

 

Dean hesitates. “On second thought, send that file to Bruce with the appropriate precautions.”

 

“Of course.”

 

Dean rubs his eyes. “Jarvis, do you have an update on the mission?”

 

“Not right now,” Jarvis replies. “I’m afraid there has been a problem with the Iron Legion that requires my attention.”

 

“Got it,” Dean replies. “Don’t worry about me, J.”

 

He’s not alone for long. Bruce comes striding into his lab shortly. “Where did you find that?”

 

“SHIELD files,” Dean explains succinctly. “I found a list with Tony’s parents’ names on it, and I followed the evidence. Howard Stark was transporting a version of the super soldier serum. I think Hydra killed him for the serum, and because he was a threat to their agenda.”

 

Bruce runs a hand down his face. “Fuck. Have you sent it to Tony?”

 

“No, because they’re on a mission, and this is a distraction,” Dean replies. “Besides, Jarvis said there’s a problem with the Iron Legion. One of the first things I learned was that if you don’t know what’s going on, don’t make it worse.”

 

Bruce presses the heels of his hands into his eyes. “All right. I think you had probably better walk me through the whole thing.”

 

Slowly, Dean takes Bruce through his thought process and his investigation. “Hydra has a pattern,” he says. “They’ve been killing people at the top of their game, people who might have changed the world for the better. Howard stood in the way of Hydra’s agenda, and Maria was collateral damage.”

 

“Do you think Steve knew?” Bruce asks.

 

Dean shakes his head. “Hell if I know, but—yeah. At least, I think he had strong suspicions. When I asked Natasha if there was anything I should know, she said it was in the past.”

 

“Great,” Bruce mutters. “Just great.”

 

“We have to tell Tony, right?” Dean asks. “I mean, I thought about not saying anything, but we can’t do that, right?”

 

Bruce is clearly tempted by the thought of shoving everything under the rug and forgetting about it, but he finally says, “No, we can’t. At least, I can’t. I’m willing to talk to him once they get back, though.”

 

Dean wonders, but doesn’t ask, whether Bruce would be so willing to talk to Tony if something goes wrong on their latest mission.

 

But maybe it doesn’t matter. The reality is that there’s no good way or right time to break this news.

 

“I’ll talk to Cap,” Dean offers.

 

Bruce blows out a breath. “I hate to ask, but I think it makes sense for you to explain since you found the information.”

 

“Yeah, of course, doc,” Dean agrees immediately. “Whatever you need.”

 

He says it because this is going to be hard on Bruce as it is. Dean has known Natasha for a long time, and he expects her to keep secrets, both her own and others’. Bruce, on the other hand, has Tony to deal with, and while Dean is fond of the man, he’s not blind to his faults.

 

Besides, Dean is starting to feel like the one person on the team he can count on unconditionally is Bruce. Natasha—well, his feelings for her run deep, but she always has her own agenda. Dean considers it the price of admission, and he’s fine with that, but Bruce is in a different, more difficult position.

 

“Jarvis, do you have an update for us?” Bruce asks.

 

The screen turns on, and there’s a scene of mass hysteria. There are smoking ruins and fleeing people, and it looks like a disaster.

 

“The Avengers were attempting to apprehend a group of smugglers with a cache of Stark weapons today,” the anchor announces in a voiceover. “A group of Georgian separatists managed to hijack what Tony Stark calls his Iron Legion, which they then turned on the populace. The terrorists immediately took responsibility for the destruction, but it still leaves us with the question as to why Tony Stark allowed it to happen in the first place.”

 

Dean winces. “God, that’s shitty.”

 

“Yeah,” Bruce agrees tightly.

 

As the footage rolls, the extent of the devastation becomes apparent. Dean has been to Tbilisi before, and he knows the city well enough to know exactly what’s been destroyed. It’s a beautiful, old city, layered with history that can’t be recreated.

 

The body count is listed on the bottom of the screen, and so far it’s up to 30, but it appears to be climbing.

 

“Fucking hell,” Dean mutters.

 

“Jarvis, do you have control of the Iron Legion?” Bruce asks.

 

“Not yet, Dr. Banner,” Jarvis replies, sounding terse for an AI. “You’ll pardon me.”

 

“Of course.” Bruce shares a look with Dean. Dean knows they aren’t going to move away from the television any time soon.

 

Normally, news out of Georgia—the country, not the state—wouldn’t be national news, but since it involves the Avengers and Tony Stark, it’s all they’re covering.

 

That doesn’t mean the news is accurate, but Dean thinks it’s probably close to the truth. It’s certainly bad enough. The Avengers hadn’t been invited, and now a bunch of people are dead because of their presence.

 

Dean knows Tony well enough to know that he’s going to be kicking himself later, especially since Bruce had raised the issue with him. Tony is a good guy who doesn’t believe in collateral damage.

 

And Dean knows that feeling, and he feels both sympathy and outrage. Sympathy, because he had recently fucked up; outrage, because it could have been prevented.

 

“I should have done more,” Bruce mutters. “I should have made Tony listen.”

 

“Could anybody do that?” Dean asks. “No offense, doc, but this is Tony.”

 

“I could have,” Bruce insists, but he sounds uncertain. “Fuck.”

 

“We have regained control,” Jarvis announces.

 

Dean frowns. “And how did you manage that?”

 

“We blew them up,” Jarvis says dryly. “Away from the populace to avoid any additional casualties.”

 

“How many casualties?” Bruce asks.

 

“At least 33 dead, and twice that many injured,” Jarvis replies.

 

Bruce lets out a breath. “I think we should wait to talk to Tony about the other thing.”

 

Dean doesn’t disagree, but he knows it’s just going to get harder the longer they wait, and he has a bone or two to pick with Steve. “I can give you 48 hours,” Dean says. “But we shouldn’t wait longer.”

 

Bruce nods. “I’m fine with that.”

 

But he already knows it’s going to be difficult, and he’s not looking forward to it. Dean knows there are extenuating circumstances, and he doesn’t want to be a hypocrite, but this is bad. This situation is just going to stoke the fires of public resentment, and he’s not sure what, if anything, they can do about that.

 

They stay glued to the news for the next couple of hours. The team is heading back right away, and Stark Industries has already announced that they’re going to donate a large sum of money to help with the cleanup.

 

As far as Dean can tell, that announcement isn’t helping to change minds. Instead, there are a lot of complaints about American imperialism and overstepping bounds. Secretary Ross has already expressed his regret for the international incident, with language that makes it clear the mission wasn’t sanctioned by the US government.

 

Dean can see the writing on the wall, and he’s pretty sure Bruce does, too, since he looks a little green around the gills.

 

“Come on, doc,” Dean says gently. “This isn’t good for your complexion.”

 

“Ross is going to come after us,” Bruce mutters.

 

“Hey, we have a deal,” Dean says. “Remember?”

 

Bruce lets out a breath. “Right. I should—I should meditate or something and try to get some sleep while I still can.”

 

“Me, too,” Dean replies. “I’ll see you later.”

 

He knows he won’t sleep before he even retires to his apartment, and he tosses and turns for a couple of hours before he gives it up as fruitless. When he comes into the main common area to make coffee, he’s not too surprised to see Bruce, who’s cooking.

 

Bruce glances at Dean. “You couldn’t sleep either?”

 

“No deal,” Dean admits. “What are you making?”

 

“A casserole,” Bruce replies with a wry grin. “It must be the Midwesterner in me.”

 

“Nothing wrong with a casserole,” Dean replies. “Have you talked to Tony?”

 

“I tried calling,” Bruce admits. “He didn’t answer, and I don’t want to go through Jarvis.”

 

Since a call through Jarvis on the Quinjet wouldn’t be private, Dean doesn’t blame him. “Do we have an ETA?”

 

“They should be here in another couple of hours,” Bruce replies.

 

“You need any help?”

 

“Not really,” Bruce says, almost apologetically.

 

“You mind if I watch TV?”

 

“Go ahead.”

 

Dean wants something mindless, and Jarvis has a nearly endless stream of entertainment, so Dean opts for _Doctor Sexy, MD_. He’s seen all the episodes multiple times, but that means it’s relaxing, and he actually falls asleep during the second episode, waking when he hears voices.

 

“Where’s Tony?” Bruce asks as Dean sits up.

 

“He headed straight to his lab,” Steve replies wearily.

 

Bruce glances at Dean. “Can you get it out in about fifteen?”

 

“Yeah, sure,” Dean replies groggily. “I’ve got it.”

 

“I’m going to get cleaned up,” Steve announces abruptly. “I’ll eat later.”

 

Clint nods to Dean. “Yeah, same. I’ll be back shortly.”

 

Wilson waves to Dean and disappears with alacrity. Natasha sits down next to him on the couch. “So, that didn’t go well,” she comments.

 

“The news is pretty bad,” Dean agrees. “Ross is already making noises about the Avengers.”

 

Natasha nods. “He’ll use the incident for his own purposes.”

 

“Bruce is freaked.”

 

“He has reason,” she says.

 

“I’m a little freaked.”

 

“You have reason.” She sighs. “What else?”

 

“What makes you think there’s anything else?” Dean asks.

 

She gives him her most unimpressed look. “Because I know you, and I know when you’re wary. This is not the only thing that’s going on right now.”

 

Dean hesitates. “I know what happened to Tony’s parents. So does Bruce. We’re going to give it a day or two, and then we’ll talk to Tony and Cap.”

 

Natasha is quiet for a long moment. “There are times when I wish you weren’t so good at your job.”

 

“You had to know there was a good chance of me figuring it out,” Dean says. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

 

“Because I wasn’t sure the information was there to be found,” Natasha replies. “And if it wasn’t, it was better left in the past.”

 

“Tony deserves to know.”

 

“Even if that means tearing apart the team?” she counters.

 

“Steve did that when he didn’t come clean,” Dean snaps, although he keeps his voice low. “I’m not the only person looking through those records, Nat. It could have just as well been an enemy as a friend, and it’s a weakness to be exploited.”

 

When she meets his eyes, he can see how tired she is. “There are a lot of forces at work here, Dean, and I didn’t want to see the team crumble any more than you did.”

 

To him, that’s a tacit admission that it will, that the fractures might run too deep to be repaired, and Dean hates that. He hates that he finally found a family, people he belongs with and to, and yet it’s all falling apart.

 

“I’ll talk to Steve,” Dean says finally, “and try to get him to tell Tony himself. Bruce and I will talk to Tony together.”

 

He’s pretty sure this isn’t going to be pretty, especially on top of the most recent mess, and he has no idea what the long term ramifications will be.

 

But at least he has his go-bag packed and ready.

 

~~~~~

 

The next couple of days are tense. Dean alternates between being glued to the news and ignoring it entirely. He wants to stay up-to-date on the situation, but then he gets pissed off and freaked out, and he turns it off.

 

The reporting is mixed, torn between support for the Avengers and ire at them for violating sovereign borders without invitation. There are also a lot of questions about how this could happen. Tony is supposed to be one of the smartest people on the planet; how could he allow his tech to be hijacked like that?

 

It’s a fair question, although Dean knows it only takes one lucky asshole in a situation like this. Dean is avoiding Tony for the most part, because he knows things are tense between Tony and Bruce, and Dean needs to talk to Steve, to try to convince him to come clean.

 

At least, that’s the plan, and then Steve heads back upstate with Wilson the day after they get back. Dean doesn’t have a good reason to ask Steve to return to the Tower, and he has the new car he’s barely used, so he drives up.

 

He doesn’t expect to run into the Maximoffs upon entry.

 

Pietro moves between Dean and Wanda in a protective gesture. “Agent Winchester.”

 

“Do you know where Steve is?” Dean asks evenly.

 

“Training room,” Pietro replies. “He seemed disturbed.”

 

Dean sighs. “Anybody with him?”

 

“Sam Wilson,” Wanda replies. “We are scheduled to begin training in an hour.”

 

Dean nods. “Right. Well, I’m going to go find him.”

 

He walks away, feeling the itch between his shoulder blades when he turns his back on them. Maybe they’re not enemies, not anymore, but that doesn’t mean he trusts them. He doesn’t understand their motives, or why they’re willing to work with the Avengers now, when they’d been so willing to kill them before.

 

Even if they weren’t dangerous themselves—which they are—Wanda Maximoff could easily trigger him or Bruce, which could end up leveling a city.

 

And because Dean doesn’t understand their motives, he doesn’t know whether they’re pretending to be reformed to get close to him and/or Bruce.

 

They don’t make a move this time, though, and Dean heads for the training room. Sam and Steve are sparring, probably just warming up, and Dean clears his throat. “Steve, I need to talk to you alone.”

 

Steve doesn’t stop what he’s doing. “It can wait.”

 

“No, it can’t, because once I’m done here, I’m going to drive back to the city, so Bruce and I can talk to Tony later today,” Dean replies.

 

“If this is about Tbilisi—”

 

“It’s about December 16, 1991,” Dean says. “The murder of the Starks.”

 

That stops Steve dead in his tracks. “Sam, we need the room. Make sure no one is in the observation booth.”

 

Sam looks from Steve to Dean and back again, but he finally nods. “Yeah, sure, man. You going to be okay?”

 

Steve nods tersely. “We’ll be fine in here.”

 

Dean knows the room is reinforced, and the rest of the compound will be safe if he loses control. Steve, maybe not so much, but Steve can withstand a lot.

 

A few tense minutes pass, and Dean knows that Steve wants to wait until he’s sure they’re alone, with no observers. No one is going to come out of this unscathed, Dean thinks.

 

“How do you know?” Steve finally asks.

 

“There’s video in Hydra’s files,” Dean replies. “He ran the Starks off the road, stole what Howard was transporting in his trunk for SHIELD, and then shot them. His face is clearly visible.”

 

He can see the muscle in Steve’s jaw tic. “You don’t have to tell Tony.”

 

“If I found it, someone else could find it,” Dean replies, trying to keep his voice even. “Steve, this is a weakness, and it’s one an enemy could have exploited, and could _still_ exploit.”

 

“It’s in the past,” Steve objects. “And Bucky was brainwashed.”

 

Dean wonders if he’s really that obtuse, or if he’s being deliberately ignorant. Dean would bet the latter.

 

He wonders what he’d do in Steve’s shoes, if his brother were the one brainwashed to hurt others. Or if his brother were possessed and had hurt others.

 

“He was, but that doesn’t change what he did, or how Tony might have reacted if this information was revealed out in the field,” Dean says, his tone getting more intense. “You had a responsibility to the team to tell us, to tell Tony.”

 

“Howard was my friend, too!” Steve snaps. “You think it didn’t hurt to realize that Bucky was the one to kill him?”

 

Dean frowns. “No, I think you were more worried about Bucky than the rest of the team.”

 

“Bucky isn’t responsible; Hydra is.”

 

Dean pinches the bridge of his nose. He takes a deep breath. “Let’s back up a minute. Do you know why I cut off contact with my brother?”

 

“He didn’t respond well to you being an Inhuman,” Steve says, clearly uncertain as to where Dean is going with this.

 

“He didn’t, but the bigger problem was _my_ reaction to _him_ ,” Dean replies. “He triggered me. Being around him is dangerous for everybody, so I backed way the hell off.”

 

“I’m not you,” Steve says stubbornly.

 

“I’m not saying you are!” Dean says, exasperated. “But Bucky is a weakness. You look at him, and you see your friend, your brother. You see the guy who looked out for you, who protected you, who would die for you. Am I wrong?”

 

Steve shakes his head. “No. You’re not.”

 

“And you want to protect him,” Dean continues. “Because what he did wasn’t his fault, but maybe you feel like it’s yours.”

 

Steve looks at the floor.

 

“So, you don’t say anything, even though this is a fucking bombshell. You’re putting Bucky before the team, and before our mission,” Dean presses.

 

Dean likes Steve, he admires him, but he’s also pretty pissed off at him right now. And Steve, Dean thinks, is really, really young.

 

“So what if I am?” Steve demands. “You don’t know what it was like.”

 

“You think I don’t?” Dean shouts. “You think I don’t know what it’s like to lose a brother? Are you really going to fucking stand there and tell me I don’t know what it’s like to make a hard choice for the good of everybody?”

 

Steve swallows. “No.”

 

“My brother was a weakness for me,” Dean says. “Before everything went down, before I changed, I sent him away because I knew I’d end up putting him before the team. I didn’t want to have to make that choice.”

 

Steve shifts uncomfortably. “It’s not like I can just send Bucky away.”

 

“You’re right.” Dean turns away, bringing his emotions under control with some difficulty. “I’m not saying Bucky wanted to kill the Starks, but he did. Tony was always going to find out, whether because I found the evidence or an enemy did. You have a chance now to come clean, to maybe minimize the damage. If you don’t, Bruce and I will tell Tony, and I don’t know what that’s going to do.”

 

“Is that an ultimatum?” Steve asks.

 

“No, it’s a statement of fact,” Dean replies, bringing his voice back down. “I can’t keep this to myself, and Bruce won’t. We’ll tell Tony together. I’m giving you a chance to get in front of this.”

 

“I’ll think about it,” Steve replies.

 

Dean nods. “I’ll give you until tomorrow morning.”

 

“Bucky is a good man,” Steve says as Dean turns away. “This isn’t who he is.”

 

Dean turns to face him. “I know. I believe you. The thing is, if you had come to me with this information, I’d have helped you break it to Tony. I’d have gone to bat for you and for your friend. The way I grew up, I know that there are sometimes things outside your control that force you to do things you wouldn’t otherwise do. But you hid it, and you risked the team and the mission, and I’m not okay with that, Cap.”

 

He doesn’t quite say that he won’t trust Steve out in the field, but he can see the words hit home, and he thinks it’s probably understood.

 

And Dean suspects the fractures in the team will probably break between those who still trust Steve and those who question his motives.

 

He just hopes that Steve is willing to come clean himself.

 

~~~~~

 

Dean heads back to the Tower immediately. The compound might be safer, in some respects, but being there hurts. Dean is beginning to wonder whether he’ll ever go out on another mission with the Avengers, and if he’ll ever feel confident enough in his abilities to utilize them in the field.

 

Eventually, he knows he probably won’t have a choice, and that something will come up and he’ll have to participate because the dangers of not doing so will be greater than the risks Dean poses.

 

But Dean doesn’t know when that’s going to be, and judging by the current climate, he thinks he’ll run before he’s forced to go back into the field.

 

He spends the afternoon and evening in his quarters, looking through the pictures Sam sent, and he’ll admit that he wallows a bit. He reads his dad’s journal, wishing there was more personal information, anything he could view as a message to Dean.

 

There are just notes on creatures John Winchester hunted, other hunters he knew, their strengths and weaknesses, a few comments on weapons, but not much about him or Sam.

 

Dean finds no answers in his dad’s old journal, and he closes it and finishes off his glass of scotch. He glances at the clock and realizes that it’s well past dinner, and he should probably get some food in his stomach if he’s going to stymie the hangover he’s sure to have tomorrow morning.

 

He stands, steadying himself on the wall, and puts the journal where he’s sure to see it. He plans to keep the pictures, but he’ll send the journal back to Sam with a note. He doesn’t feel up to talking to Sam right now, not really, but—

 

Dean needs to call Bobby. He’s exchanged a few texts, and has listened to a couple of voicemail messages, but he hasn’t felt up to talking to anybody outside the team. Bobby’s texts had simply said that Sam talked to him, and that he’s in Dean’s corner, or some variation of the same. There had been a happy birthday message, which Dean had thanked him for, and that was about it.

 

He figures Bobby understands his need to retreat to lick his wounds, because he hasn’t pressed.

 

The kitchen is empty when he enters, and Dean starts to poke around for food. He has a craving for breakfast, and he finds a loaf of bread, eggs, and bacon. Dean begins to fry the bacon, and he’s just flipping over the slices when Bruce appears.

 

“You hungry, doc?” Dean asks.

 

“Yeah,” Bruce admits wearily. “But don’t go to any trouble.”

 

Dean shrugs. “I’m cooking the whole package, so there’s plenty for two—or three, if Tony is joining us.”

 

“He isn’t,” Bruce replies shortly.

 

Dean turns to look at him. He sees the stress on Bruce’s face and feels a pang of sympathy. “You want to talk about it?”

 

Bruce shakes his head. “No. No, not really.”

 

Dean grimaces. “You want to talk about something else?”

 

“Is Steve going to talk to Tony?” Bruce asks.

 

“I don’t know,” Dean admits heavily. “I asked him to, and I said we’d tell Tony if he didn’t, but Cap is… Cap is being a fucking idiot, and I’m afraid his head might be permanently lodged up his own ass.”

 

Bruce snorts. “So, we end up talking to Tony.”

 

“What time do you think he’ll be in a fit state?” Dean asks. At Bruce’s startled look, he says, “Occupational hazard, Bruce. I’ve always been the guy who looked after my team. And I’ve used the same coping techniques myself.”

 

“Like tonight?” Bruce asks.

 

Dean shrugs. “Yeah, like tonight. I was looking through my dad’s old journal, trying to find any sign that he gave a fuck about me, and I indulged. Hence, the breakfast for dinner.”

 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that to sound so judgmental,” Bruce apologizes.

 

Dean shakes his head. “I could do a lot of damage if I lost control. You’re right to be concerned, and I’m sure you don’t want to look after another drunk guy.”

 

“No, not really,” Bruce admits with a wry grin. “But I’m also not inclined to feed Tony right now, so I’ll take your breakfast for dinner gladly.”

 

“Scrambled, or sunny side up?” Dean asks.

 

Bruce hitches a shoulder. “It really doesn’t matter to me. I like eggs in all their forms. It’s a cheap source of protein in a lot of countries.”

 

“So, you’re telling me that I’m going to have a hard time finding a bacon cheeseburger where we’re going,” Dean says.

 

Bruce looks like a deer in headlights. “Are we going?”

 

“I don’t know,” Dean admits. “But I’m not liking the signs.”

 

“Yeah, neither am I,” Bruce says. “Fuck.”

 

Dean sighs. “Yeah.”

 

“So, breakfast,” Bruce says.

 

“Breakfast,” Dean agrees.

 

After dinner, Dean suggests a movie night since Bruce seems reluctant to leave, and God knows Dean doesn’t want to be alone with his thoughts right now. The nice thing about hanging out with Bruce is that he doesn’t make fun of Dean being a closet nerd, and when Bruce suggests a sci-fi movie marathon, Dean quickly agrees.

 

They watch _Close Encounters of the Third Kind_ , and _The Terminator_ , and then _Terminator 2_. Neither Dean nor Bruce speaks much; they’re both lost in their own worlds, trying to focus on the movies. Dean suspects it works about as well for Bruce as it does for him, but at least they’re not alone, wallowing.

The movies are so far removed from their ordinary lives that it’s easier for Dean to lose himself in the stories.

 

It’s late when they finish up, but Dean isn’t in a rush to go to bed. He knows he’s just going to lie awake. Best case scenario tomorrow: Steve shows up, tells Tony, Tony doesn’t get pissed off at Steve for keeping this big secret from him, and everything goes back to normal.

 

Dean has no illusions about how this is _really_ going to go, though.

 

Steve will be defensive, Tony will be combative, Bruce will run for cover, and Dean will be hanging on to his patience by his fingernails.

 

“If you want me to handle Tony tomorrow, I can,” Bruce offers. “You have enough on your plate right now.”

 

“So do you,” Dean counters. “Do you want me there?”  
  


“I do, but I know there’s a lot going on,” Bruce counters.

 

“You let me worry about that,” Dean says.

 

He doesn’t really sleep that night, as he expects. When he does, he dreams about explosions, about seeing his father’s face on the face of the man who triggered his loss of control. He dreams of seeing Sam’s dead body, broken by Dean, after a wave of concussive blasts.

 

Dean doesn’t even try to sleep after that. Instead, he goes for a long run in Central Park, and then runs some errands, trying to kill as much time as possible. He picks up a few things at the store, wanting to be sure he has enough toiletries for at least a few days so he doesn’t have to pack anything else.

 

It’s supposed to be a go-bag, after all.

 

He dawdles as long as he can, but when he turns up at the Tower shortly after noon, Jarvis informs him that Steve hasn’t made an appearance yet. Dean pinches the bridge of his nose with a sigh and quickly texts Natasha.

 

_Has Steve left the compound yet?_

 

 _Not yet,_ Natasha responds immediately.

 

_WTF?_

 

_He doesn’t want to do it, so he’s using training the twins as an excuse._

 

“That fucker,” Dean says out loud.

 

_I warned him you’d go ahead, and he said that might be for the best._

 

“Coward,” Dean mutters. _It’s not on my head if Tony flips his shit._

 

_Agreed._

 

Dean suspects that in Steve’s mind, this is ancient history, that his affection for Barnes is overriding his common sense and empathy for Tony. He knows that Howard Stark was Steve’s friend, and he probably feels the horror of Barnes having murdered someone he cared about.

 

But losing a friend, as hard as it is, isn’t losing both of your parents.

 

Dean is more than a little pissed off at Steve right now for leaving him with this task, but he’s not going to leave it undone just because Steve is balking.

 

“Jarvis, where are Tony and Bruce?”

 

“I believe they’re having another one of their arguments in Mr. Stark’s workshop,” Jarvis replies.

 

Dean sighs. “Great. Well, once more into the breach, I guess.”

 

He thinks about warning them that he’s coming, but he also wants to get a bead on what’s going on in their relationship. So, he goes down without forewarning them, and hears raised voices as he approaches.

 

“Pardon me for not wanting to hear ‘I told you so’ constantly,” Tony says snidely.

 

“I didn’t say that!” Bruce snaps. “I asked if you’d fixed the problem, Tony. We can’t afford another mistake of that magnitude.”

 

 “I told you I had it handled!”

 

“That’s what you said the last time!”

 

“How was I to know those assholes would have the means to crack my RFID encryption?”

 

“Because I told you it was a weakness!” Bruce shouts. “God, Tony, are you listening to yourself right now? I know you feel like shit because you fucked up, but you’re locking yourself in your lab, you’re not talking to me, you tell me you’ve got it handled, but that’s what you said before. You’re shutting me out!”

 

“You were right,” Tony snaps. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

 

“I don’t want to hear that I’m right, I want you to _talk_ to me!” Bruce says plaintively. “I want you to remember that it wasn’t just you that fucked up, Tony. It was me, too. I could have pushed the issue. I could have insisted that we rework the code before deploying the Iron Legion. It’s been you and me for a while, Tony, and I feel like you’ve forgotten that.”

 

There’s silence, and Dean takes a deep breath before entering. “Hey.”

 

Tony is turned away from Bruce and the doorway, and he doesn’t move. Bruce has his arms crossed defensively over his chest, and his expression is one of quiet devastation. Dean wonders if their conversation is going to make things better or worse between the two of them.

 

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Dean begins.

 

“We were done,” Tony says tightly. “I have some work to do.”

 

Dean clears his throat. “Maybe so, but there’s a conversation I need to have with you.”

 

“What if I don’t want to have the conversation?” Tony asks. “Do I get a choice?”

 

Dean decides to dive right in. “It’s about your parents. You want to skip the conversation now?”

 

Tony finally turns to face him. “What are you talking about with my parents?”

 

“They didn’t die in a car accident, Tony,” Dean says simply. “Hydra was behind it.”

 

Tony shakes his head. “No, I would have known. Someone would have broken the story.”

 

“When did you find out that your dad was one of the founding members of SHIELD?” Dean counters. He knows the answer to that question, but he needs Tony to think about it.

 

Tony grimaces. “But I would know,” he insists.

 

“You weren’t looking,” Dean says. “I was combing through the files, or I might not have found it.”

 

Tony nods tightly. “Okay.”

 

“There’s video,” Dean says gently. “Do you want to see it, or do you want me to tell you what’s on the tape?”

 

“I need to see it,” Tony says, crossing his arms tightly.

 

Bruce has sidled closer, but Tony half-turns away from him, and Dean hurts for both of them. They’re his friends, and he hates seeing them struggle.

 

“Jarvis, play the footage,” Dean orders heavily.

 

It’s hard to watch, and he hadn’t known the Starks. It’s harder to watch with Tony in the room, and Dean focuses on Tony’s face, watching as he flinches when the car crashes. Then he flinches at the sound of his mom calling for his dad, at the gunshots.

 

And then Barnes looks directly up at the camera, and Tony gives a full-body shudder.

 

“Did Steve know?” is Tony’s first question.

 

Dean takes in a deep breath. “Yeah, he did.”

 

“Then why the fuck isn’t he telling me himself?” Tony demands. “When did he know? Did you tell him first?”

 

Dean swallows. He doesn’t want to throw Steve under the bus, no matter how pissed off he is at him right now, but he owes Tony the truth. “He knew before, but I offered him the chance to come clean to you. He didn’t, so I’m telling you.”

 

“How long did you know?” Tony demands, clearly working up a full head of steam.

 

“I found the footage right before the last mission,” Dean replies. “After what happened, I wanted to give the dust a little time to settle.”

 

Tony subsides, although his expression is pure misery. “That was the Winter Soldier, right? Barnes? Steve’s dear old pal?”

 

“Yeah,” Dean replies. “Hydra was using him as his attack dog. You know that.”

 

“I didn’t know he killed my parents!” Tony shouts. “He killed _my mom_!”

 

Dean realizes that it’s probably a good thing that Steve isn’t there. Tony would probably go right for Steve’s throat. “Yeah, I know,” Dean says.

 

“That fucking asshole,” Tony mutters. “Where is he?”

 

“He’s up at the compound,” Dean replies. “But I think you should let yourself cool off before you head up there.”

 

“This is the guy Steve wants to help?” Tony demands.

 

Dean doesn’t know how to respond. “Hydra was using him. You don’t have to be okay with what he did in order to believe we’d all be better off if he can’t be used again.”

 

Tony shakes his head. “Get out.”

 

Dean glances at Bruce, who shakes his head. “I’ve got this,” he says quietly.

 

“Call if you need me,” Dean says.

 

He leaves Bruce and Tony to their discussion, and he realizes that he’s at loose ends. He’s tired, he doesn’t want to look at the Hydra files, and he doesn’t want to go upstate to see Natasha. He doesn’t want to run into the Maximoffs, and he’s afraid that he’ll end up punching Steve in the face, or worse.

 

Dean winds up going back to his apartment, and he starts to write a letter to Sam, something more than the two lines thanking Sam for the pictures and the chance to read the journal. Something that explains what’s probably coming and why, and what he wants Sam to do with his stuff.

 

He figures he’ll probably rewrite it a few times, but he wants something to send if or when things go bad.

 

His first draft reads:

 

_Sam,_

_I can’t risk being used as a weapon. If you’ve been watching the news at all, I think you know what I mean. Bruce and I are going to travel for a while. I don’t know where we’ll end up, or if I’ll be able to communicate, but I’ll try to let you and Bobby know where I am and how I’m doing._

_Thank you for the pictures. They’re coming with me. The journal is yours. You’re the one following in Dad’s footsteps. You deserve the benefit of his experience. Who knows? Maybe we’ll run across some things that go bump in the night. I’ll keep track of them, just in case._

_I’d like it if you could put my stuff in storage, but if not, I understand. I’ve put the important stuff in a safety deposit box._

_I’m sorry about how it went down between us, and that I haven’t been able to talk to you since. We’re walking a tightrope, Sammy, and I couldn’t take the risk that I’d hurt you._

_Stay safe._

_Dean_

 

He doesn’t immediately rip it up, although he’s not sure he’ll send it as is. Still, he has the pieces in place to run now, and he’s convinced it will be necessary.

 

~~~~~

 

Dean is woken late the next morning by a loud knock on the door. He’d fallen asleep on the couch, and he rolls off and stumbles to his feet. The third whiskey the night before was probably a mistake, but at least he slept dreamlessly for once.

 

He’s halfway to the door when Clint says, “Come on, Winchester! I know you’re in there.”

 

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Dean grumbles. “Give me a sec!” He opens the door for Clint. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but what?”

 

“I came to check on you,” Clint replies. “I brought bagels.”

 

Dean frowns, but steps aside to let Clint enter. “I thought you were upstate.”

 

“I was,” Clint replies. “Natasha told me to come check on you, and I hadn’t seen you for a while. I was worried.”

 

Dean huffs a laugh. “Yeah, well, I don’t really want to be around the Maximoffs right now. I’m sure they’re very nice, but she thinks at me wrong, and I blow up the compound.”

 

“They’re bigger assholes than you are, which is saying something,” Clint jokes.

 

“Yeah, I guess it is,” Dean replies, starting the coffee.

 

Clint puts the bagels down on the kitchen counter. “I get why you haven’t been there, but other than your birthday party, you haven’t been around the team at all. I have to wonder if we pissed you off.”

 

Dean runs a hand through his hair. “No. You didn’t piss me off.”

 

“That’s specific,” Clint replies. “This about why you came up the other day and didn’t stay, or why Steve has a larger than usual stick up his ass?”

 

Dean takes a bite out of a still-warm bagel. “I guess I might as well tell you. It’s probably going to get out pretty soon. I found evidence that Tony’s parents were actually assassinated by Hydra.”

 

Clint winces. “Wow. That sucks.”

 

“More specifically, by the Winter Soldier,” Dean adds around a mouthful of bagel.

 

“Fuck,” Clint says succinctly. “I assume that’s why you were at the compound.”

 

“I told Steve to come clean with Tony, and I gave him a time limit. He decided I wasn’t serious and didn’t show,” Dean says. “I told Tony yesterday afternoon.”

 

“How did that go over?” Clint asks.

 

“What do you think?” Dean asks, pouring a couple of cups of coffee. “He told me to get out. I left. I came back here and got drunk because I didn’t want to deal with Steve or Tony, or hell, Natasha, since she decided to keep that piece of information to herself.”

 

Clint’s eyebrows go up. “You guys are fighting?”

 

“No, we’re not fighting,” Dean replies. “Natasha kept the information to herself for understandable reasons. I’m pissed off that I had to be the one to break it to Tony for understandable reasons. It’s all very understandable.”

 

Clint clasps Dean’s shoulder. “I’m not sure if I should apologize, or be grateful that you guys aren’t the perfect couple.”

 

“We never were,” Dean protests. “We’ve argued before.”

 

“Not obviously,” Clint counters.

 

“Still, we’ve argued from time to time,” Dean replies. “And we’ll probably argue again. This isn’t a fight; this is a philosophical disagreement.”

 

“The same kind of disagreement you’re having with Steve?” Clint asks.

  
Dean snorts. “No, that’s a fight. I’m still pissed off at him, and I probably will be for a while.”

 

“Steve is trying to protect Barnes,” Clint points out, like Dean doesn’t know that.

 

“Yeah, but he’s fucking the team over while he does that,” Dean says. “Look, I know you like Steve. _I_ like Steve. But he’s Captain fucking America, and he has a duty to think about more than just his brainwashed buddy.”

 

Clint’s expression softens. “Like you did with your team and your brother?”

 

“Like that,” Dean confirms. “Don’t let Steve drag you into something you’re not okay with, Clint.”

 

“Eyes wide open, I promise,” Clint replies. “Come on. You need to get out of your head for a while. We’ll go to the Tower and I’ll give you some pointers with the bow.”

 

Since Clint never offers to teach someone the bow, Dean knows he’s worried, and he’s touched by the gesture. “Thanks, man.”

 

“Any time, bro,” Clint replies.

 

~~~~~

 

After an afternoon on the range, Dean’s far more relaxed than he was, and while he’ll never match Clint’s skill, he’s at least doing a pretty decent job of hitting the bullseye. Clint is planning on driving back to the compound upstate so he can train with the rest of the team the next day.

 

Dean braves the common room, just to see if Bruce needs to talk, or even to see if Tony does. He’s a little put out with Tony at the moment, but he feels for the guy, too, and Dean’s pretty sure he’d be out for Steve’s blood in Tony’s shoes.

 

He finds Tony in the Penthouse with a half-empty bottle of a really nice single-malt, and Dean asks, “You sharing?”

 

Tony shrugs. “I have other bottles.”

 

Dean grabs a glass and sits down, allowing Tony to pour a generous amount. “Where’s Bruce?”

 

“How the fuck should I know?” Tony demands, and then he winces. “Shit. I’m sorry.”

 

Dean keeps his silence, sipping his drink.

 

“Bruce told me off for shooting the messenger and just generally being a pain to live with,” Tony says morosely. “Which I have been.”

 

Dean takes a deep breath. “My parents were both murdered, although it was a couple of decades apart. Mom died when I was four, my dad when I was in my 20’s and in the Army. I was in Kandahar, behind enemy lines, and I didn’t find out he was dead until he was long buried. When he died, I hadn’t spoken to him in six or seven years.”

 

He’s not really sure how his story is going to go over, and he figures it’s even odds that Tony will tell him to fuck off. Instead, he says, “I was a little shit to my parents the last time I saw them. I was pissed that I was home, and they were leaving.”

 

“You were, what? 20? 21?” Dean asks gently.

 

“I was a spoiled brat, is what I was,” Tony says grimly. “Mom tried—she tried to mediate. They left, and I pouted. And then they were dead.”

 

“Hydra took a lot from you,” Dean says.

 

Tony snorts. “You mean Barnes did.”

 

Dean takes another sip, unwilling to either agree or disagree.

 

“Bruce said you were looking into how to pull Barnes’ strings,” Tony says after a long, silent pause. “You think he has a trigger.”

 

“Pretty sure of it,” Dean admits. “You have to admit that a guy like Barnes, captured by Hydra, kept on ice when they weren’t using him, who has a trail of bodies that spans decades when he looks younger than I am… Someone was holding his leash. Pierce might have been the last, but there were others before him.”

 

Tony’s expression turns calculating. “You think Hydra still has the leash.”

 

“I think we have to keep that possibility in mind,” Dean replies. “And I think they know Cap’s weakness is Barnes.”

 

Tony sighs. “You may have a point.”

 

Dean relaxes, glad to see that Tony is thinking and not just reacting now. “I usually do.”

 

“I’m still pissed off at Steve,” Tony warns him.

 

“That makes two of us,” Dean replies evenly. “He should have told you.”

 

Tony rubs his eyes. “I’m fucking this up, Dean. I know I’m fucking it up, and I know Bruce is fed up and rightfully so, and I don’t know how to fix it.”

 

“You can start by talking to him,” Dean suggests.

 

Tony gives him a sharp look. “You want to talk about what happened to you in D.C.?”

 

“No, not really,” Dean admits. “But Natasha was right there and on coms. She knows. And she’s Natasha, so of course she knows.”

 

“Bruce knows, too,” Tony points out. “He was the one who warned me.”

 

“Yeah, well, what works for me and Natasha doesn’t necessarily work for you guys,” Dean replies. “And I think we all know where this road is leading.”

 

“We don’t _all_ know it,” Tony replies sourly. “Steve doesn’t.”

 

“Steve is a child,” Dean snaps. “Steve has his fucking head so far up his own ass, I’m not sure he remembers what daylight smells like.”

 

Tony’s eyebrows go straight up. “Ooookay. I thought I was pissed, but apparently not.”

 

Dean blows out a breath. “I’m a little hot right now.”

 

“On the plus side, you haven’t blown anything up,” Tony points out helpfully.

 

Dean laughs, although without much humor. “Yeah, I guess there’s that.”

 

“Look, I know you and Bruce are friends…”

 

Dean waits for the conclusion to that statement, but Tony just trails off. “We are. Was there a question in there?”

 

“I’m glad he has a friend on the team who isn’t me,” Tony finally says.

 

Dean suspects that isn’t entirely true. He suspects that Tony wishes Bruce were focused entirely on him, but knows that’s the wrong answer. “I’ll look after him,” Dean says. “Bruce—he understands what it’s like to have something inside you that could destroy an entire city block if you let your guard down for even a moment.”

 

Tony’s mouth moves into what almost be a smile. “Yeah, I never really got that. Bruce—Bruce said it was a nightmare.”

 

“It is,” Dean says quietly. “It’s not too late, Tony. Bruce is crazy about you.”

 

Tony shakes his head. “Feelings don’t make a damn bit of difference sometimes.”

 

And Dean raises his glass in a silent toast, because he knows that all too well.

 

~~~~~

 

Natasha calls a couple of days after Dean has his conversation with Tony. He hasn’t seen any of the others; Dean has been working out and spending time on the range. He might be able to blow things up with his brain, but he still needs to be able to shoot with accuracy.

 

It’s been a long time since he had that kind of extended time alone, and he feels steadier as a result.

 

“How long are you going to hide out?” she asks.

 

Dean snorts. “You were the one who told me to take my time and enjoy some space.”

 

“I also sent Clint to check on you,” Natasha replies. “Have you spoken to Tony?”

 

“A couple of days ago,” he admits. “I think he was slightly calmer.”

 

“Well, he’s not talking to Steve,” Natasha says. “I think Steve has tried calling several times, and Bruce wouldn’t even talk to him after the first time.”

 

Dean smirks, mostly because he knows she can’t see his expression. “I warned him.”

 

“You did,” she admits. “I think you should come up. The twins aren’t here right now, and they won’t be back for a few days.”

 

“Is this you telling me that I should bury the hatchet?” Dean asks.

 

Natasha sighs. “Not necessarily. I just think you should talk to Steve.”

 

Dean knows that Natasha probably has her reasons for that, reasons that she may or may not decide to tell him. “All right. I’ll head up today, but I don’t know how long I’ll stay.”

 

“The Maximoffs will be back the day after tomorrow,” Natasha replies. “I imagine you’ll want to be gone before then.”

 

“Yeah, good chance of that,” Dean replies.

 

“I’ll see you soon,” Natasha says. “Drive safe.”

 

Those last two words tell Dean everything he needs to know about how worried Natasha is about him, or about the situation in general. She’s not expecting this to go well, but there’s a reason he needs to be there.

 

Dean throws together a bag, although it’s only half-packed. He still has a few things at the compound, and he plans on bringing everything back with him. Dean needs to get a storage unit, and start making plans for clearing his apartment.  If it turns out to be unnecessary in the long run, great, but he’d rather be prepared than otherwise.

 

His new car hums underneath him, and Dean makes a mental note to ensure that Bobby gets the keys and the car. He’ll take good care of it for as long as Dean has to be gone.

 

Privately, Dean thinks it might be a while.

 

The drive up is beautiful. It’s late spring, and the trees are either flowering or budding or both. The grass is green, and wildflowers are starting bloom. Dean drinks it in and takes his time, enjoying the drive and the scenery.

 

He sticks to the speed limit the whole way, not entirely inclined to get to the compound, and then he finds himself taking the road to Sonny’s place instead of heading straight there.

 

Dean shoots off a quick text to Natasha to let her know about the delay before he climbs out of the car. Sonny is on the porch, and he lets out a low whistle when he sees the car. “You know, Tony told me what he was getting you for your birthday, but that’s a sweet ride.”

 

“Tony was up here?” Dean asks, a little surprised.

 

Sonny shrugs. “He said you thought the kids would be thrilled—which they were—and he wanted to pick my brain about what kind of car you’d prefer.”

 

“I’m surprised he didn’t ask Bobby,” Dean comments.

 

“Oh, he did,” Sonny says. “Bobby didn’t tell you?”

 

“We haven’t talked for a while,” Dean admits, knowing he’s flushing. “After…”

 

He trails off.

 

“Come on in,” Sonny says. “I’ll pour you a drink.”

 

“I thought you said you didn’t keep alcohol on the premises,” Dean replies.

 

“Not where anybody can find it, no,” Sonny says. “The boys think I have a gun safe, but I definitely don’t keep those on the property, and I don’t pull it out except for special occasions.”

 

“And this is one?” Dean asks.

 

“I think it might be a while before I see you again, so yeah, this is one,” Sonny says, locking the study door behind them. “Although it’s just the one drink.”

 

“I have to drive to the compound next, so one is all I can do,” Dean replies. “I take it you’ve seen the news.”

 

“We’ve all been following it,” Sonny admits. “There have been some lively debates about Inhumans—and I’m not a fan of that term, by the way.”

 

Dean winces. “Yeah, me neither. Apparently, that’s what they—we—have called themselves for a long time, though.”

 

Sonny hands Dean a glass with a generous shot of whiskey. “And what happened in DC?”

 

Dean feels like he can be honest with Sonny in a way that he couldn’t outside his team. “I got triggered. I got cocky, and I went in alone. I misread the situation, and it turned out a father was abusing his kid. It got ugly.”

 

“You were always the kind of guy to go to bat for the underdog,” Sonny observes. “You learn anything from it?”

 

Dean smiles. Sonny had rarely upbraided anybody for screwing up, instead asking, “What did you learn?” That’s an attitude that’s served Dean well.

 

“Never go in without backup, and never get cocky about my control, because I’ll always have triggers,” Dean says promptly. “I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately.”

 

“Sounds like a good attitude to have,” Sonny agrees, sipping his drink. “And?”

 

“And I may need to take off,” Dean admits. “If you’ve been watching the news, you’ll probably understand why.”

 

“People should never be regarded as objects, and certainly shouldn’t be considered weapons,” Sonny says. “But if you have to leave, send us a postcard.”

 

Dean glances at him in surprise. “I killed a lot of people, Sonny.”

 

“Do you know that, or are you assuming it?” Sonny counters.

 

Dean shrugs. “Does it matter?”

 

“You killed people as a soldier,” Sonny says. “That was more deliberate, I’m sure.”

 

“Of course, but they were trying to kill me first,” Dean protests.

 

Sonny nods. “And this guy and his kid?”

 

“I don’t know,” Dean admits. “They weren’t exactly listening to instructions.”

 

Sonny sighs. “The thing I had to learn about this job is that not everybody wants to be saved. Not everybody _can_ be saved. I focus on the ones I did save, the ones who have been successful, and you’re one of them.”

 

 “Even though I could lose control and blow up the house?” Dean asks.

 

“That’s not all you are,” Sonny replies.

 

Dean shrugs uncomfortably. “Yeah, I guess not.”

 

“Do what you have to do, D-Dog,” Sonny says. “Go where you have to go. Send us postcards when you can, but when you do come back, know you’ll have a hero’s welcome, because that’s what you are to these boys.”

 

Dean shakes his head. “I think you’re the hero, Sonny. What you did for me—”

 

Sonny raises his glass in a toast. “That was just my job. And I suspect you’d say the same.”

 

Dean raises his own glass. “Thanks.”

 

He heads to the compound after he finishes his drink, feeling a little lighter. He’ll need to find a way to communicate with Sonny and his boys if he has to leave. Postcards are great, but not terribly secure. Maybe Jarvis could help him out with that, or they could set something else up.

 

Dean probably should do that anyway, if he wants to keep Bobby and Sam informed on where he is and how he’s doing.

 

He doesn’t want to deal with dinner at the compound, and suspects he won’t be there long anyway, so he stops for a burger at a drive-through and eats it on the road. He parks in front of the compound and grabs his bag from the passenger seat.

 

Dean enters and sees the usual bustle of activity from the former SHIELD agents Tony’s bankrolling. There are times he wishes he could be one of them—just another SHIELD agent, finding employment after the downfall of the agency he called home.

 

God, there are times he wishes he was just another SHIELD agent, and there was nothing special about him.

 

Natasha intercepts him, and she says, “Fair warning, Steve is pretty hot.”

 

“I don’t swing that way,” Dean jokes.

 

Natasha gives him a dirty look. “You know what I mean.”

 

“I don’t see what he has to be angry about, given that Steve’s the one who left me to clean up his mess,” Dean mutters.

 

“Steve doesn’t see it that way.”

 

“That’s his problem, isn’t it?” Dean asks. “Look, you asked me to be here, and I’m here, but I’m not soothing Steve’s wounded ego.”

 

Natasha sighs. “Dean—”

 

“No,” Dean says. “I came, even though I didn’t want to. If you want me to respond a certain way, then you need to tell me what you want, and why.”

 

Natasha shakes her head. “No. I don’t have anything specific.”

 

“Then we’re fine.”

 

Natasha gives him a look. “Are we okay?”

 

“I don’t like being manipulated,” Dean replies. “And I’m pretty sure that’s what you’re doing.”

 

She doesn’t deny it. “Trust me?”

 

“You know I do,” Dean counters. “But I can’t play the game if I don’t know the rules.”

 

Natasha shrugs. “No games. Do what you need to do.”

 

Dean figures that Natasha knows him well enough to know how he’ll respond, and that’s part of her plan. He doesn’t like that idea, but he wasn’t born yesterday either.

 

“That’s what you want, right?” Dean asks. “Come on, Nat. Don’t fuck with me, not right now.”

 

“I want you to do what you need to do,” Natasha repeats. “Whatever that happens to be. I want you to be okay.”

 

Dean shakes his head. “I think it’s a little late for that.”

 

He feels a little bad for saying that, but he’s feeling off-kilter and upset.

 

“Dean,” Natasha begins. “You know I’m on your side.”

 

“I know,” Dean replies. “I’m going to grab my stuff. You can tell Steve where I am.”

 

He’s already made up his mind not to stay there that night, whether he sees Steve or not. Dean is angry with Steve, angrier than he’d been at Sam even.

 

Sam is his brother, not his captain. In retrospect, Dean hadn’t expected much more of Sam than for him to act like a self-centered brat. Dean’s anger at Steve is underscored by his disappointment and not a little bit of resentment.

 

“Have you spoken with Tony?” Steve asks from the doorway.

 

“I did a few days ago,” Dean replies. “He’s pretty torn up, between what happened with the Iron Legion and finding out his parents were murdered.”

 

“That’s not my fault,” Steve says. “You could have kept quiet.”

 

Dean straightens. “Is that right?” He turns to face Steve, and sees his stubborn expression, the annoyed tilt of his chin. “I told you why I revealed that information to Tony. It was a liability, and you’re not thinking clearly.”

 

“And you are?” Steve asks. “You’re still rattled by what happened in DC.”

 

“I still have a healthy respect for what I can do if I lose control,” Dean counters. “Something you should probably remember if you’re going to use Inhumans in the field.”

 

“You don’t think I’ve thought about that?” Steve demands.

 

Dean snorts. “No, I don’t, because you’re not thinking tactically right now. If you were, you would have told Tony yourself, and you would know that Barnes is a liability. You would be asking yourself how to get Hydra out of his head, and how to minimize the damage he can do.”

 

“Like you do?” Steve asks. “You’re always thinking about tactics, aren’t you?”

 

“Someone has to,” Dean replies. “And yeah, I sent my own brother away—back when SHIELD fell—because I knew he was a weakness. I did what I had to do to protect the team and the mission.”

 

Steve’s jaw works furiously. “Maybe some of us have a harder time shutting off our emotions.”

 

“Maybe some of us don’t have a fucking choice, _Steve_ ,” Dean replies. “Or maybe I got used to making the hard choices when I watched every single one of my teammates bleed out while I finished the mission. And maybe I don’t want to follow someone I can’t trust to make the hard choices, too.”

 

Steve stares at him, and his expression hardens. “Then I think you know what you need to do.”

 

“Yeah, I guess I do at that,” Dean replies. “I guess I’ll see you when I see you.”

 

Dean slings his duffel over his shoulder and shoulders past Steve, almost running into Clint on his way out. “Where’s the fire, Winchester?” Clint asks.

 

“I’m heading out,” Dean says. “Think I’ll lay low for a while longer. The Avengers don’t need more bad press.”

 

Clint frowns. “That doesn’t mean you can’t train with us.”

 

“That’s exactly what it means,” Dean replies. “Steve and I are having some fundamental differences of opinion right now.”

 

“Are you okay?” Clint asks.

 

Dean nods. “Sure. Don’t let Cap lead you down a road you don’t want to go down, Clint.”

 

“Like I said, eyes wide open,” Clint replies.

 

“I hope that’s the case.” Dean hesitates, wondering whether he should tell Clint about his plans to clear out his apartment, but decides against it. He can leave a note and instructions. Until then, no one needs to know of his plans. No one other than Natasha and Bruce, anyway.

 

It’s late when he gets in, and he collapses on his couch with a glass of whiskey in hand, staring at the watermarked ceiling of his apartment. It’s going to be a wrench leaving this place. He’s lived here longer than he’s lived just about anywhere else, except maybe Sonny’s.

 

No, he’s been here longer than he’d been at Sonny’s, even if he’s split his time with the Tower.

 

Dean’s cell phone rings, and he glances at the caller ID, grimacing when he sees Bobby’s name. He really should have called before now.

 

“Hey, Bobby,” Dean says.

 

“How are you, Dean?” Bobby asks.

 

Dean is choked up all of a sudden. When Bobby had been in New York, things had been good, but it’s all gone to shit since then. “I’m okay,” he manages.

 

“No, you’re not,” Bobby replies gruffly. “I’ve seen the news. I can read between the lines.”

 

Dean closes his eyes. “I fucked up, Uncle Bobby.”

 

“We all fuck up,” Bobby says, his tone gentle. “You wouldn’t be the first, boy, and you won’t be the last.”

 

“A lot of people died.”

 

“And you wouldn’t be the first and you won’t be the last,” Bobby repeats. “Don’t beat yourself up too much. Learn from it.”

 

“Yeah, that’s what Sonny said,” Dean admits.

 

Bobby chuckles. “I always liked him.” He pauses. “Is there anything I can do?”

 

Dean clears his throat. “Yeah, I don’t—I don’t know what’s coming, but I think I might have to get out of town if things get too hot. Look after my car for me?”

 

“Is it as nice as mine?” Bobby asks.

 

Dean smiles. “Maybe nicer. It was my birthday gift.”

 

“I’ll look after her for you,” Bobby says. “Anything else?”

 

“Not that I can think of,” Dean replies. He’d tell Bobby to look after Sam, but he knows Bobby already does. “I’ve got a letter to send to Sam, but—you might have to explain things to him.”

 

“Your brother’s done an admirable job pulling his head out of his ass,” Bobby replies. “But yeah, I’ll pass along any insight I might have. You’ll stay in touch, right?”

 

“As best as I can,” Dean replies. “I’m going to talk to Bruce about it, maybe set something up with Jarvis. I might have to send you guys new phones.”

 

“We’ll use them,” Bobby agrees. “You going alone?”

 

Dean doesn’t think there’s any harm in telling Bobby. “No, Bruce and I agreed to watch each other’s backs.”

 

“You do that,” Bobby says, and his voice is a little thick. “Bruce is good people.”

 

“That he is,” Dean replies. “I’ll—I’ll call you before I do anything rash like moving.”

 

Bobby sighs. “Take care of yourself, Dean.”

 

“You, too,” he replies.

 

Dean hangs up, finishes off his drink, and then pours himself another. He doesn’t think he’s going to sleep tonight without a lot of help.

 

~~~~~

 

The next few days are busy. Dean rents a storage space and sets up automatic withdrawals from his bank account. He writes instructions for Bobby, and gets Sam’s name put on one of the accounts. He sets up a second under an alias he used for SHIELD.

 

He doesn’t mail the journal back, not yet. He’s saving that for later, for when there’s no other option.

 

In short, Dean takes all the steps he needs to take in order to disappear, so he can trigger them when he has to do so.

 

And once he has everything he cares about in storage, Dean quietly moves to the Tower. He stays there often enough that he doesn’t think it will be obvious, but his go-bag is there, and he’s pretty sure Tony won’t throw out the rest of his stuff if he leaves.

 

Jarvis knows he’s back, and he’s pretty sure Bruce does, too, although he’s left mostly in peace for the first few days.

 

That’s when Bruce shows up. “Hey.”

 

Dean lets him in. “Hey. I was kind of wondering when you’d show.”

 

“I wanted to give you some time. I know I usually need space to lick my wounds when I have a big fight.” Bruce shrugs self-deprecatingly. “And I’ve had my hands full with Tony.”

 

“How is he?” Dean asks.

 

Bruce shrugs. “Still shutting me out for the most part, although he has his moments. What about you? I heard Steve wasn’t too happy.”

 

“Steve can fuck right off,” Dean says bitterly.

 

“You want to talk about it?” Bruce asks, after a rather pregnant pause.

 

Dean shakes his head. “What good would that do? I talked to Steve about it, and he didn’t shift.”

 

“So? Maybe you just need to get it off your chest,” Bruce points out reasonably.

 

Dean breathes out. “You remember when I told you why I couldn’t keep Sam around when SHIELD fell?”

 

“You said he’d be a weakness,” Bruce replies readily.

 

“I’m pissed that Steve doesn’t get that,” Dean admits.

 

Bruce grimaces. “That’s understandable.”

 

“And I’m pissed he left me to handle his mess, and won’t even talk to Tony,” Dean continues.

 

Bruce grimaces. “He’s actually talking to Tony.”

 

“When?” Dean asks. “Because that’s new.”

 

“A few hours ago,” Bruce replies. “Which is the other part of the reason I’m here now. Steve said they had a line on a weapons dealer linked to Hydra, someone named Brock Rumlow.”

 

Dean grimaces. “Yeah, he’s a grade-A asshole. I heard he was Hydra, but I didn’t know he was selling weapons. Why is Steve going after him, though? There are other alphabet agencies who would be better equipped, and would probably have the right clearance.”

 

“I think Steve is harboring a grudge.” Bruce lets out a breath. “But I share your concerns. They’re heading to Lagos.”

 

“Africa? Did they get permission from the locals?” Dean asks.

 

“Jarvis?” Bruce calls. “Do you know if Steve cleared their presence with the local government?”

 

“Not that I’m aware, Dr. Banner,” Jarvis replies.

 

Dean glances at Bruce, sharing his alarm. After the debacle with the Iron Legion on foreign soil, after Dean’s loss of control, going to another country and executing a mission seems like a risky proposition.

 

“You want to stay here tonight?” Dean asks. “I can cook, or we can order out.”

 

Bruce hesitates. “I don’t want to impose.”

 

“Come on, doc,” Dean cajoles. “We know each other better than that, and you don’t want to be alone while you’re waiting for news. It’s cool, as long as you don’t mind burgers.”

 

Bruce shakes his head. “Beggars can’t be choosers, but no. I don’t mind. That sounds good.”

 

Dean nods. “You want to watch something?”

 

“That would be great,” Bruce admits. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be burdening you with this.”

 

Dean snorts. “Natasha’s going with them, so I’d be equally burdened, and it’s good to have the heads up if something goes wrong. Is Tony okay?”

 

“His head still isn’t screwed on straight after the last mission,” Bruce says. “So I’m a little worried.”

 

“I think he knows what’s at stake,” Dean says. “Based on what we talked about.”

 

Bruce snorts. “Yeah, he might, but I think he believes that it will never come to that, that he could prevent it by sheer force of will.”

 

“I wish that were possible,” Dean says. “I mean, if I could prevent bad shit from happening just by wishing, I’d do it.”

 

“Wouldn’t we all?” Bruce asks.

 

By unspoken agreement, they don’t talk about the rest of the team after that, or the mission in Lagos. Dean fries up some burgers and sticks a tray of frozen fries in the oven, and they sit down in front of the TV with their dinners.

 

They end up watching _Kingsman_ , which is ridiculous, but entertaining. “There are times I wonder if the world wouldn’t be a better place if the population was culled.”

 

“And how would you make that determination?” Bruce asks.

 

“Hell if I know, which is why I’d never suggest it,” Dean replies. “I’m just saying.”

 

“I understand,” Bruce replies. “You really don’t mind if I stay here tonight?”

 

“No, man,” Dean assures him. “I don’t want to sleep either. You want to put on Lord of the Rings? If we fall asleep on the couch, no big deal.”

 

Bruce heaves a sigh of relief. “Thanks.”

 

Dean doesn’t mind. He’s been alone for the last few days, and he can feel Bruce’s need not to be. Everything in Dean’s life might be a fucking shit show right now, but Bruce isn’t. His relationship with Bruce isn’t.

 

~~~~~

 

Bruce leaves him briefly the next day, apparently heading out to talk to Tony, who still has his head firmly up his ass if Bruce’s quick reappearance in Dean’s work space is any indication.

 

“What are you working on?” Bruce asks, sounding just a little bit desperate.

 

Dean hesitates. “I’m finishing up a project. I’m setting up a series of shell corporations to keep us funded while we’re on the road.”

 

Bruce’s eyebrows go up. “Where’s the money coming from?”

 

“Well, some of it is coming from me,” Dean replies. “I lived pretty frugally, and I had hazard pay that I socked away over the years. When that runs out, I’m guessing Tony will probably start funneling money into it. I’ve left him instructions.”

 

“Why would he do that?” Bruce asks.

 

“Because you’re you, because Tony loves you, even if he’s struggling to show it right now,” Dean replies. “Because he takes care of the team, even if they don’t get that.”

 

Bruce huffs a laugh. “You know him well.”

 

“I know what it’s like to fuck shit up and not know how to fix it,” Dean counters. “And Tony knows he’s fucking shit up. He just doesn’t know how to fix it.”

 

Bruce looks away, the muscle in his jaw working. “That doesn’t make it any easier.”

 

“Yeah, I know,” Dean replies. “Just like knowing that Natasha is manipulating me—probably for my own good—doesn’t make things any easier. Hell, if she’d just tell me what she’s doing, I’d probably agree. But that’s not who she is, and it’s not who Tony is.”

 

Bruce nods. “And could you live with that forever?”

 

“I love her,” Dean says simply. “But that doesn’t mean I’ve got blinders on.”

 

“Yeah, I get that,” Bruce replies. “What do you think it means that they haven’t contacted us yet?”

 

“I hope it means that they’re being smart about the op and are doing thorough recon,” Dean replies. He checks his watch. “Lagos is six hours ahead, and I doubt they’ll run the op at night. They might call early this morning if something goes down. You want to hang out again tonight?”

 

“Yeah, I do,” Bruce replies. “I swear, I’m not trying to use you as a buffer.”

 

“We’re friends, doc, I get it,” Dean says. “It’s not like I have a lot of better things to do right now.”

 

Bruce mimes being shot. “Oh, thank you so much.”

 

“You know what I mean,” Dean replies. “You’re my favorite Avenger right now.”

 

“That’s not saying much,” Bruce jokes. “Thanks, Dean.”

 

Dean shrugs. “You got something you want to watch tonight?”

 

“I wouldn’t want to take you away from your work,” Bruce protests.

 

“Oh, I’m done,” Dean says. “At least with the bulk of it. I can finish up the rest of it while we hang out.”

 

Bruce nods. “Thanks.”

 

That night, they watch old _Star Trek_ movies, and Dean finalizes his letter to Sam. He should probably call, but he’s not sure what to say. He thinks it will be easier to put in a letter.

 

He pulls out the first draft and reads through it again:

 

_Sam,_

_I can’t risk being used as a weapon. If you’ve been watching the news at all, I think you know what I mean. Bruce and I are going to travel for a while. I don’t know where we’ll end up, or if I’ll be able to communicate, but I’ll try to let you and Bobby know where I am and how I’m doing._

_Thank you for the pictures. They’re coming with me. The journal is yours. You’re the one following in Dad’s footsteps. You deserve the benefit of his experience. Who knows? Maybe we’ll run across some things that go bump in the night. I’ll keep track of them, just in case._

_I’d like it if you could put my stuff in storage, but if not, I understand. I’ve put the important stuff in a safety deposit box._

_I’m sorry about how it went down between us, and that I haven’t been able to talk to you since. We’re walking a tightrope, Sammy, and I couldn’t take the risk that I’d hurt you._

_Stay safe._

_Dean_

 

He adds:

 

_Daisy told me what you’re doing. I couldn’t be more proud of you. When it’s safe, when I can, I promise I’ll get in touch._

 

And then, after a moment, he scrawls, “Love, Dean.”

 

At the end of the letter, Dean writes the information for his safe deposit box and storage unit, and he encloses the spare key to his apartment in the envelope. He hasn’t given it out to anybody; he doesn’t need to. Natasha can find her own way in, and Clint has the master.

 

Dean seals up the pre-paid box, shutting away the remnants of his fractured life, and sets a mental reminder to mail it on their way out.

 

And then, Dean takes a deep breath, and he joins Bruce on the couch.

 

He doesn’t sleep that night, because there’s a part of him that knows he’s going to get a call.

 

Maybe it was always going to come to this, maybe Dean should have known, because it all feels inevitable now.

 

When Natasha calls, Dean is awake, his eyes burning with exhaustion. It’s just after 5 am, so late morning in Lagos, and Dean picks up immediately. “What happened?”

 

“It’s bad, Dean,” Natasha says in a low voice. “Wanda lost control. We’re not sure what the body count is yet, but we can assume multiple casualties.”

 

“The fallout?” Dean asks.

 

“I think you know,” Natasha replies. “You need to run.”

 

Dean closes his eyes. “Yeah. I have the pieces in place.”

 

“I won’t ask where you’re going,” Natasha says. “But I will find you.”

 

Dean snorts. “Yeah, well, I learned from the best. Maybe I’ll present a challenge.”

 

“You always have,” Natasha says, and if Dean didn’t know her any better, he’d say she was a little choked up.

 

“Take care of yourself, Nat,” Dean says.

 

“I always do,” she replies.

 

Dean hangs up and immediately shakes Bruce awake. “Hey, Natasha called. Lagos went sideways, it’s bad, and it’s going to get worse.”

 

Bruce rubs his eyes. “The fuck?”

 

Dean repeats what he just said. “Natasha thinks we should run.”

 

“We or you?” Bruce asks.

 

“ _We_ ,” Dean emphasizes. “We can both be weaponized.”

 

Bruce smiles. “Yeah. Let me grab my bag, and I’ll be ready.”

 

“You don’t want to talk to Tony?” Dean asks.

 

Bruce shakes his head. “You know he’ll try to convince me to stay, and I don’t think that’s the right call. I can’t afford to cave; the stakes are too great.”

 

Dean nods. “Okay. I’m ready, too.”

 

He has his go-bag, the important stuff is in a storage unit, he has the package for Sam ready to go.

 

Bruce says, “I have to grab my bag.”

 

“I’m going to call Bobby. I’ll meet you in the lobby,” Dean says.

 

He doesn’t expect to get Bobby on the phone, and when it goes to voicemail, he says, “Bobby, it’s me. I’m getting out of Dodge. I’m sending a box to Sam with some of the pertinent information, but help him out, would you? Tony likes you, and he’ll give you the keys to the car.”

 

He pauses. “Stay safe. I’ll talk to you when I can.”

 

And then he leaves the cell phone on the counter in his Tower apartment and walks out with everything he needs for a few months on the road.

 

Bruce is waiting for him down in the lobby. “We good?”

 

Dean nods. “You and me are golden.”

 

**Six Weeks Later**

 

Dean takes a long sip of his beer and watches the news. They’re in Morocco, having taken the slow boat from New York to avoid scrutiny. He thinks his beard might finally be past the itchy stage, but even if it isn’t, seeing a stranger in the mirror has helped his peace of mind.

 

He doesn’t recognize himself, and that helps. Here, on the run, he’s whoever he’s pretending to be that day. He’s not an Avenger, he’s not an Inhuman, he’s just Dean Cameron, traveling the world with his buddy.

 

The news is bad, though, and Dean’s glad they’re well out of it. The TV is tuned into the BBC, so Dean doesn’t have any trouble understanding what’s being said. The UN had been voting on the Accords when someone attacked; early reports are that Steve’s friend Bucky and Wanda Maximoff had been involved. The king of Wakanda had been one of the casualties, and Steve is listed as a person of interest.

 

It’s a giant fucking mess, and Dean is torn between a certain amount of smugness that he was right, and fear for his friends.

 

Bruce slides onto the seat next to Dean, and Dean nudges Bruce’s beer closer to him. “You okay?”

 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Bruce replies. “Tony put money into the account.”

 

“We were expecting that,” Dean says.

 

Bruce takes a long drink of his beer. “ _You_ were expecting it. I thought Tony might hate me.”

 

“Has he tried to contact you some other way?” Dean asks.

 

Bruce shakes his head. “No, but I didn’t leave him a lot of options.”

 

“I did set up a couple of burner accounts,” Dean offers. “You could email him.”

 

“Maybe in a while,” Bruce says. “I need to give it some time.”

 

“Yeah, I hear you there,” Dean agrees. He hasn’t reached out to Natasha either, but she probably has her hands full anyway.

 

Bruce scratches his own beard. “Shit, this itches.”

 

“It will pass,” Dean says. “Give it another couple of weeks. You gonna go full Jesus on me?”

 

Bruce snorts. “You haven’t seen how wild my hair gets.”

 

“All the better as a disguise,” Dean replies.

 

Bruce hums. “I suppose. That looks like a mess.”

 

They’re replaying the footage from the explosion at the UN, and Dean sighs. “It’s a fucking mess. I’m glad we’re not in the middle of it.”

 

“Are _you_ okay?” Bruce asks.

 

Dean finishes off his beer. “I’m okay. Not great, but okay.”

 

Bruce claps him on the shoulder. “We should probably check on transportation.”

 

Dean nods. “Yeah, let’s head out, doc. We’ve got a ways to go.”

 

There’s a whole continent to explore, for them to disappear, and that’s what they need to do right now.

**Author's Note:**

> I have at least three more stories planned for this series, but I'm currently working on other projects, so it might be a little bit before I continue this. I think I've left it in a decent place (if an angsty one) for now.


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